


One Night with the Prince

by jessa_anna



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fear of Death, M/M, Spells & Enchantments, Stripping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 17:57:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessa_anna/pseuds/jessa_anna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the servants know that Arthur picks one servant a week to warm his bed. All the servants know that the chosen never comes back. What else could they do but conclude that he kills them? So when Merlin is chosen, he comes up with a plan to save his skin, setting in motion events that lead both of them to their destiny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night with the Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Massive thank you to my beta, mar_map, and my cheerleaders, Erin and Alyssa. I couldn’t have made it through without you. springinstep, I hope you like this. I really enjoyed writing your prompt, even though it gave me almost too many ideas. Please forgive the horrible Welsh in here. I used Google Translate, so it’s probably nowhere near accurate.

**Title:** One Night With the Prince  
 **Author/Artist:** **Prompt:** Merlin is a stripper. Still with magic. Clothes coming off on their own (his and others), sex magic, invisible bondage, all and more is a-okay with this prompt. Also would love it to be quite awkward at first.  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Word Count:** 3,845  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Disclaimer:** Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.  
 **Notes:** Massive thank you to my beta, mar_map, and my cheerleaders, Erin and Alyssa. I couldn’t have made it through without you. springinstep, I hope you like this. I really enjoyed writing your prompt, even though it gave me almost too many ideas. Please forgive the horrible Welsh in here. I used Google Translate, so it’s probably nowhere near accurate.  
 **Summary:** All the servants know that Arthur picks one servant a week to warm his bed. All the servants know that the chosen never comes back. What else could they do but conclude that he kills them? So when Merlin is chosen, he comes up with a plan to save his skin, setting in motion events that lead both of them to their destiny.

 

The afternoon that Merlin received the note that told him he was chosen, he slacked off from doing his chores and searched out Gwen. When he found her, she was stripping the sheets off of Morgana’s bed and singing softly, her voice light as it flitted through the air.

“Gwen,” Merlin said as soon as he entered the room. “I need your help.”

“I thought you would come to me,” she answered, never stopping her work. “I heard you were chosen.”

“I was; I need to know how you survived the night,” he said.

“Help me with Morgana’s bed, and I’ll tell you,” said Gwen.

Merlin rushed to the opposite side and caught the corner of the sheet when Gwen shook it open over the bed. They worked in silence for a few minutes before Gwen spoke again.

”I don’t know why I survived, why he let me come back. All we did all is talk,” she said.  
“Talk about what?” Merlin asked. He was good at talking; he could definitely do that. 

“We talked about Lancelot, what I thought of him, if I could see us as a couple if he could come back,” Gwen said.

“ _When_ he comes back,” Merlin corrected with a smile. He wasn’t going to let his friend give up hope that her true love was banished forever.

“When he comes back. It felt almost like an interview than a night where I—“ Gwen covered her mouth with the pillowcase in her hand as soon as she realized what she was about to say.

“Where you were going to die, like I might possibly die tonight, like every other servant Arthur has called to his bed has died,” Merlin said. I just want to know how I can avoid it.”

“Well,” said Gwen, clearly thinking hard as she smoothed the last of the wrinkles from the blanket on Morgana’s bed, “if I were you, I would think of some way to make myself stand apart like those stories the bard told us last season, about the queen who tricked the king into keeping her alive by telling him story after story and never finishing one in a night. She was smart, and she stood out from the crowd. Do something like that.”

“Okay,” said Merlin. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Gwen.”

Merlin kept thinking about Gwen’s advice as he walked back to Gaius’ chambers, and Gaius sent him back out with a list as long as his arm of herbs and plants he needed from the forest. He liked the idea of standing out, but he knew he couldn’t do it with stories. Arthur had been there when the bard had told everyone about the woman. He had even snorted and said that he wouldn’t fall for something like that. No, Merlin needed to do something else.

It wasn’t a huge secret around the palace that Arthur called for a new servant at least once a week, just like it wasn’t a secret that whichever servant was unlucky enough to spend the night with Arthur was never heard from again. The servants gossiped endlessly about what had happened to each person, but nobody really knew. Nobody wanted to be chosen, to disappear, maybe even killed. Merlin felt a small shiver of fear run down his spine. What could he do to survive?

Then it came to him. It would involve a little work, but survival was worth a little sweat, wasn’t it?

 

********

Arthur was sitting in his gold chair next to the fire when Merlin entered the room. He had one foot up on the seat and was leaning down on the opposite elbow. He stared into the flames as Merlin nervously stood and waited. 

For a moment, Merlin’s mind was blank. Arthur was just as handsome as he had always been, blond hair shining in the firelight, shadows forming around his collar bone, and lines furrowing in his brow. Merlin had seen him bully the servants too much to ever be attracted to him, but a contemplative Arthur set something in his gut stirring. 

He remembered his plan. He walked over to Arthur’s table. The remains of his supper were still on the table, and Merlin quickly poured Arthur a glass of wine. He held it in his hands briefly and whispered, “Yfwch ddwfn ac yn gadael i'r gwin oresgyn eich synhwyrau fel y bydd pob i wneud yn ymddangos fel pe bai'n breuddwyd.” 

“Would you like a drink, your highness?” he asked, holding out the cup.

Arthur faced him then. “All right,” he said.

Merlin handed him the cup and watched as Arthur drank the entire thing. For a moment, Arthur held the cup in his hand and looked straight at Merlin. Merlin’s heart started to beat faster, wondering if Arthur knew. Then Arthur brought the cup back to his lips and tried to take another drink.

“There’s nothing in here,” he mumbled. He turned back to Merlin. “Merlin, there’s no more drink in my glass. Refill it.”

“Oh, all right,” Merlin said. He poured another cup for Arthur.

“Now where were we?” Arthur asked. He leaned back in the chair. There was a looseness in Arthur’s limbs that spoke highly of his intoxication. 

“I was just going to dance for you, your highness,” Merlin said.

“Dance?” Arthur asked, his forhead wrinkling in confusion. “I don’t remember that.”

“Well, that’s what you told me to do,” Merlin said.

“Okay,” said Arthur.

Merlin sighed and looked to the right. His eyes flashed gold for just a second, and the sound of a lone fiddle echoed in the room. 

Merlin did his best to look sexy, but wearing his normal, every day clothes made that next to impossible. He figured he was doing a pretty decent job when his eyes flashed gold, his belt disappeared, and Arthur swallowed hard sitting up straighter in his chair. Merlin moved as sensually as he could to the music, approaching Arthur in the chair. His eyes flashed again, and his boots and socks vanished, although they almost tripped him as they left. Merlin wasn’t a fan of walking barefoot across the cold stone floor, but sacrifices had to be made. He just hoped that Arthur hadn’t seen him wince as he walked across. Another flash of the eyes and his shirt was gone. He barely managed to repress a shiver. He circled around the chair and let his eyes turn gold, so that his scarf untied itself and slid down his arm. It then slid across Arthur’s arm until it fell on the floor. Merlin quickly sent it to his own room with the rest of his clothes. Merlin smiled seductively (he hoped) and sat down on Arthur’s lap with his legs on either side of Arthur’s hips. Merlin was just leaning down as if to kiss Arthur when his head lolled to the side, and the cup fell from his hand.

“Thank goodness,” Merlin thought, as he climbed off Arthur’s lap.

Merlin used his magic to lay Arthur in his bed and take off his clothes, looking away. He sighed and slid off his trousers before climbing into bed beside Arthur. 

 

********

 

Merlin woke up to the sound of swearing. He was warm for once, a rarity in his small stone room, so he tried to snuggle deeper into the blessed heat of the bed. He had almost suceeded in drifting off again when the nice pillow he was using was yanked out from under him.

“What going on?” he asked, blinking awake. 

“We slept together,” Arthur’s voice, tinged with confusion, boomed in his ear.

Merlin blinked a few times and then looked around him. He knew that when he slipped into bed with Arthur that they were going to be asleep together, but he hadn’t anticipated his unconscious body snuggling back into Arthur’s, nor Arthur’s arms wrapping themselves around him. 

“Isn’t that what’s supposed to happen?” he asked.

For a moment, Arthur’s face mirrored the memory Merlin had of the night before, all confusion and even distrust, before it smoothed out into the mask that Merlin has seen him wear in front of the king and the court a thousand times.

“Yeah, yeah, it is,” he said. 

There was a moment of silence before either one of them spoke.

“Don’t turn around,” Arthur said.

Merlin felt him slide back and off of the bed, the heat gone from his back. He heard Arthur walk around the room, picking up his clothes and getting dressed. Merlin had helped him get dressed many times, but that was before. Now it seemed like things had changed. 

Merlin slipped out of the bed only after Arthur had left the room.

 

********

 

What Merlin didn’t anticipate was becoming a celeberty around the castle. He had thought the fanfare over Gwen’s survival had been obstentatious enough, but it was nothing like being the second person to survive. At least that’s the reason Merlin gave himself.

He didn’t want to think that people were surprised that he had survived because everyone had expected Gwen to. She was too kind, too beautiful, too important to the Lady Morgana. But Merlin? He was simply the physician’s helper and occassional manservant to the prince. He was never supposed to be safe.

Merlin took the extra food the cooks gave him and the extra change the nobles gave him when he delivered their medicine. He enjoyed the extra time Gaius gave him for collecting herbs and for studying. He lost himself in the simple pleasures of his every day life and ignored the feeling that he was missing something, something important.

Arthur ignored him.

Merlin was never called to help him dress or put his armour on. If Arthur wanted him to muck out the stable, he sent word through one of his knights. Merlin never realized how much Arthur was at the center of his days until he was gone. Nothing Merlin did could fill the hole.

He found himself watching Arthur more and more at mealtimes, when he was training with his knights, when he was too busy in the routine of his life to notice that Merlin was there. 

Merlin lived for those times.

For a few weeks, Arthur didn’t choose any other servants to come to his room. Merlin was strangely relieved.

Everything changed the day Merlin found out that Arthur had chosen Freya.

It’s not that Merlin hated Freya, in fact, they were friends. He had spent many happy hours gossiping with her over the knights as they braided bread together. He had been the first person that Freya had confided in about her curse, how every night she was destined to turn into a bastet, a winged, black cat. He was the one who had helped find Freya a safe place to spend the night so that she would be unable to hurt anyone. She was like his little sister. 

When Freya came up to him and asked how he survived the night, he put on a brave face and lied to her. He told her he had no idea how. He felt bad about it, for a moment, before realizing that it didn’t matter. He was determined to make sure that Freya would come back alive. He hid himself in Arthur’s chambers when George, the manservant who had been serving Arthur since he had stopped calling for Merlin, carried out some dirty laundry. 

He stayed hidden the entire time Arthur ate his dinner, his gaze intense as he stared into the air. When Arthur moved to the chair next to the fire and stared into the flames, Merlin had to restrain himself from going over to him and smoothing out the lines on his brow. He was here to make sure that Freya was safe, nothing else.

When Freya came in, she looked smaller and more scared than Merlin had ever seen her. Not even telling Merlin her secret, or how she feared what she might do when transformed, scared Freya half as much as standing in front of Arthur.

The room was silent for a few moments, before Arthur looked up from the fire and at Freya. “Can you tell me, Freya, how long you have been cursed?” he asked.

“Sire?” Freya said, “Cursed? What do you mean by cursed?”

“Don’t worry, Freya, your secret is safe with me, but I fear that simply chaining yourself up or locking yourself in a cage at night is not going to work for much longer. You need a far more permanent solution,” Arthur said.

“Yes,” Freya whispered, her fear growing with each word Arthur said. Her eyes were on her hands as they twisted around each other. 

“Now, there isn’t much time, but if you go with me, I can help you get the assistance you need to fight this,” Arthur said.

Freya looked up then, an expression of hope sitting cautiously on her face. “You can do that?” she whispered.

“Yes,” said Arthur, “I know the right people, but if we’re going to do this, we have to leave now.”

Freya nodded. Arthur stood up and quickly strapped his sword to his side. He smiled reassuringly at her before saying, “Follow me.”

Merlin slipped out of the room after them.

Arthur led Freya down the hallways to the armory. Merlin watched from the doorway while Arthur helped Freya through the door and into the outside, the door swinging shut behind them.

When they were through, Merlin’s eyes flashed gold, and the door slowed its pace. He quickly entered and began to follow them, making sure to be as silent as possible. He only stopped when he saw Arthur and Freya silhoueted against the bright light at the stables. He pressed himself against the wall as a man in armour held his hand out for Freya.

“Freya,” Arthur said softly, “this is Lancelot. He is a good friend of mine and probably the best knight I have ever fought. He will be taking you up north to a place called the Isle of the Blessed. There, two priestesses of the Old Religion, Nimueh and Morgause, are waiting for you. I have their word that they will do everything in their power to end your curse. If they cannot do that, they will lessen it so that you will not have to spend your nights in fear any longer. Are you willing to go with Lancelot?”

“Yes,” said Freya, “but Merlin—“

“Will think that you have disappeared like every other servant who has disappeared after a night with me,” Arthur said.

“But Merlin didn’t,” Freya said. “Why was Merlin different?”

Arthur sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he whispered.

Merlin couldn’t believe it was really Lancelot waiting to help Freya, but it was definitely his kind eyes looking and silently supporting Freya. Why was he back? Why hadn’t he contacted Gwen? Why was he helping Arthur?

Freya smiled, a carefree smile that Merlin hadn’t seen on her face in a long, long time. He knew then that he wouldn’t stop her leaving and that he could no longer deny his attraction to Arthur. He was everything Merlin had ever hoped to find in his prince.

Freya took Lancelot’s hand and began to walk with him into the night. Arthur sighed and watched them go.

Merlin left before he could turn around to walk back. 

 

********

 

Merlin was waiting for Arthur in his rooms when he came back.

“What are you doing here, Merlin?” Arthur asked, his voice filled with exhaustion instead of his usual arrogance.

All of Merlin’s ideas about how he was going to confront Arthur flew from his mind at this sign of vulnerability. “I saw you,” he rushed out instead.

Arthur’s head shot up, and he looked coldly at Merlin.

“What do you mean?” he said, his voice cold.

“Nothing bad, I swear. I just saw you help Freya, and I want to help too,” Merlin said.

Arthur’s shoulders slumped down at that, and he looked away, “You want to help me. Don’t you want to, I don’t know, be free, Merlin? Be somewhere where it isn’t death for being who you are.”

“No,” said Merlin. He stepped closer to Arthur, “I don’t. Uther doesn’t scare me. I’ve been hiding here pretty well. I like making sure that you stay alive, and I want to help you protect people. I don’t think there’s anything better that I could be doing away from Camelot.”

“But if you’re caught—“Arthur said as he stepped closer to Merlin.

Merlin took another step closer too. They were directly in front of each other now. “I won’t be. I’m powerful, Arthur, more powerful than the priestesses of the Old Religion even. My magic is for you; it has always been for you, just like me.”

Merlin had barely gotten the words out before Arthur’s mouth was on his. He kissed passionately, deeply, like this was the one moment he had spent his whole life preparing for. Arthur’s hands slid into the inky black of Merlin’s curls. Merlin pressed back, his hands coming up to brace himself on Arthur’s shoulders. Their tongues tangled together, fighting for dominance of the kiss. 

They drew back for a breath, and Merlin smiled. Without a thought or a moment’s hesitation, his eyes slid into gold, and he pushed Arthur into the chair next to the fire with his magic. An unseen violin began to play. 

“Merlin,” Arthur said, “your eyes.”

Merlin smiled, a wicked gleam in his eyes. They flashed gold once again, and Arthur’s arms and legs were bound to the chair.

He walked forward, letting his magic whisk away his boots and socks into a pile in the corner. He swayed his hips as he walked closer to Arthur, the music rising through the air. He finally reached Arthur. His body swayed a bit more, and his eyes turned gold again as it ghosted along Arthur’s collar. Merlin began to lift up the hem of his shirt, showing off a small patch of pale, smooth skin. He released Arthur’s hands, and they immediately come up to his waist, but they did not settle there, instead Arthur moved them to that one patch of skin Merlin had let him see and paused there before Arthur ghosted them further up Merlin’s chest and sides, letting the shirt fall along his arms. His hand brushed Merlin’s nipple, causing him to take a sudden, deep breath. Arthur’s eyes twinkled at that, and Merlin’s expression turned competitive. His eyes turned gold, and his shirt and his scarf joined his boots and socks in the corner. He also forced Arthur’s hands back to the arms of the chair. Arthur sucked in a quick breath, and Merlin pressed his advantage. He climbed onto Arthur’s lap and kissed him before trailing his mouth down along Arthur’s jaw and neck to his collar bone. Merlin sucked deeply for a moment, causing Arthur’s lower body to suddenly jolt forward. Both men groaned when their erections connected. 

Merlin wanted to see more of Arthur, so he let the gold into his eyes and Arthur’s shirt join his in the corner of the room. Arthur groaned at the first touch of Merlin’s skin on his. Merlin grinned and then leaned back before coming up quickly. He kissed Arthur again and when they came up for air, his eyes flashed again, and Arthur was free. 

Immediatley, Arthur stood up and walked to the bed with Merlin’s legs wrapped around him. He kissed him as they fell on top of it in a tangle of limbs. Arthur immediately undid Merlin’s pants and slipped his hands in. As they cupped his erection, Merlin threw his head back and groaned. Arthur grinned. He stroked Merlin with all the confidence of a prince, but Merlin soon brought him back to earth when he removed both of their pants, sending them to the corner of the room. 

“Merlin,” Arthur groaned before crashing their lips together again. 

Arthur reached for the small bottle of oil he kept hidden in his nightstand. He quickly poured some in his hands before coating a finger and bringing it down to Merlin’s puckered hole. Merlin inhaled sharply when he felt the intrusion, the cold oil only making it worse, before Arthur’s ministrations relaxed him. He tensed again for the second finger, but when Arthur’s fingers brushed against the little bundle of nerves, Merlin felt a jolt go through him. Arthur scissored his fingers and kept brushing against it, which made Merlin forget momentarily about the pain. A third finger joined, but it wasn’t until Arthur was lined up, slowly pushing in, that Merlin stiffened again in pain. Arthur stopped then and waited until Merlin nodded before pushing in further. When he was finally all the way, his balls brushing against Merlin, Arthur paused again, letting Merlin adjust. It hurt at first, it really did, but then the pain faded into a sensation that wasn’t exactly pleasurable but wasn’t bad either. 

“Move, Arthur,” Merlin said.

Arthur began to move, and, on his third thrust, found that spot in Merlin that made him light up. He gasped out in pleasure, and his eyes lit up gold. Merlin didn’t mean to, but suddenly he felt his magic run up and down Arthur’s sides, over his chest, tweaking his nipples. 

“Merlin,” Arthur said, his voice more desperate than before.

Merlin kept up the phantom sensations, knowing that the barely there touch was ratcheting both Arthur and himself up higher. Arthur kissed Merlin, a slow, perfect kiss that told Merlin all his feelings without the words needing to be said. At this confirmation of his feelings, the tendrils of pleasure that had been curling at Merlin’s spine suddenly burst, and he whited out as he came. He could feel Arthur coming a moment later. 

They gasped for breath together, their bodies rolled away from one another but connected through their hands that just wouldn’t let go. Merlin smiled, flashed his eyes, and cleaned the mess away. Arthur smiled and dragged Merlin to him for a kiss. It wasn’t long before they both fell asleep, the music fading into silence around them.

In the morning, they talked through all their misunderstandings. Arthur confessed that he had recruited Lancelot’s help soon after he had left Camelot, wanting to do something to help the innocent magic users. He had interrogated Gwen to make sure that she deserved Lancelot but hadn’t told her about Lancelot because he was never in Camelot for very long. Neither one wanted to endanger her further. Merlin confessed that he had drugged Arthur in order to make it through the night he’d been chosen. Arthur confessed how long he had known about Merlin’s magic, and Merlin confessed how many times he had used it to save Arthur’s life. In the end, there were no more secrets between them; the prince and sorceror were in harmony. Both knew that whatever the future held, they would fight for it together, side by side.


End file.
